Why Should I Care?
by Shanrock
Summary: They say that with power comes responsibility. Avoiding that responsibility can turn people against you, something that seems to be extremely true of Paul. Contains mild language. Is NOT IkariShipping.


**Okay, another quick one-shot for you all. This one focuses on Paul, everyone's least favourite bad-boy from Sinnoh.**

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**WHY SHOULD I CARE?**

"Torterra, standby for battle!"

With a resounding roar, a massive, turtle-shaped beast burst out of its Pokéball in a harsh flash of light that temporarily illuminated the dark sky and thundered onto the cold pavement. The great tree on its back swayed in the strong breeze gusting through the area, but Torterra took no notice, all its attention focused on the dark haired Trainer in front of it. The purple haired boy behind it narrowed his eyes at his opponent, waiting for him to choose Torterra's foe. It made no difference to him; Torterra would easily account for anything sent his way, but nonetheless, he waited.

"Don't tell you're too scared to battle me, Ash," Paul called to the other boy, a sneer playing on his lips. "But then again, you _are _so incredibly _weak_, I can't really blame you," he jeered, smirking to himself as he saw—even in the light given off by the streetlights—Ash's temple give a violent twitch. Behind Ash, two other people watched on nervously. One was a tall, dark-skinned man with spiky brown hair; the other was a young girl with a sheet of navy-blue hair underneath a white beanie.

"Monferno, I choose you!" Ash bellowed, summoning the Fire-Fighting type onto the makeshift field. Monferno glared at the Continent Pokémon standing across from it, past feelings rising to the surface as it beat its chest with its fists, the flame on its tail climbing ever higher into the air and banishing the shadows further from the field.

"Unsurprisingly, you go with the type advantage," observed the Veilstone native with a cynical laugh. "Just goes to show that you lack the power to win!"

"The hell it does, Paul!" Ash fired back, springing into action. "Monferno, use Flamethrower!" he ordered, and Monferno blasted a spire of white hot flames from its maw, aimed straight at its former teammate's head.

"I'll show you _why_ I released that worthless Pokémon when it was still a Chimchar," Paul spat, turning to his oldest Pokémon. "Torterra, counter that Flamethrower with a Leaf Storm!" Torterra nodded its vast head—even as Monferno's Flamethrower bore down relentlessly on it—as its body was engulfed in a dim green glow. With a roar and a stomp of its feet, Torterra blasted a swarm of razor sharp leaves from the tree on its shell at the Flamethrower, which mercilessly tore the fire type attack to shreds before zooming towards Monferno.

Monferno gave a pained shriek as the leaves raked across its body, leaving several long gouges along the length of its chest and limbs, before it crashed in a heap at Ash's feet. "Monferno, no!" Ash cried, but his fears were soon eased as Monferno quickly jumped back to its feet, its eyes burning with the same fire as its tail was.

"_Now _do you see why I let it go?!" Paul laughed at Ash, his face twisted into a sinister grin. "It was _never _strong enough to be a decent battler! Torterra—" he yelled, "finish that miserable excuse for a Pokémon off with Stone Edge!"

"I'll show you who's a miserable excuse!" Ash retorted, fury in his voice. "Monferno, dodge that Stone Edge by using Mach Punch, and then follow up with a Flame Wheel!" he roared, as three rings of blue light encircled Paul's Torterra. The lights quickly transformed into solid rock, before they broke into pieces and launched themselves at the Playful Pokémon on the other side of the field. Monferno lunged forwards, right into the path of the powerful attack, ducking and weaving this way and that with blinding speed, each dodge bringing it ever close to the Grass type.

As Monferno closed within a few metres of Torterra, it curled into a flaming ball and bounced up towards Torterra's head, barely evading a final salvo of sharp stones as it collided into its opponent. A sickening sizzling sound followed the impact, and both trainers could see the nasty scorch mark on Torterra's head as Monferno rolled away, back onto Ash's side of the field. Ash's two friends, Brock and Dawn both let out resounding cheers for the hit, and Paul scowled at the motley party, the streetlights accentuating the shadows on his face.

"You see, Paul?!" Ash asked loudly as Monferno returned to its feet and grinned at Torterra, who tensed its body in response. "_You're _the weaker trainer here, thinking you can just blitz your way to victory!" he thundered, but Paul merely shook his head and let out a dark chuckle, opting to have his Pokémon settle the matter.

"Torterra, Hyper Beam!" he yelled, and without warning Torterra fired a colossal beam of orange energy at Monferno, who barely had time to see the attack before it speared into its stomach with pulverising force. The power behind the attack drove Monferno off its feet and into the side of a building some fifty feet away with a loud crunch.

"Monferno!" Ash, Dawn and Brock yelled, running over to inspect it. Paul merely shook his head in disgust and recalled Torterra in a haze of red light as the other three pulled Monferno's body out of the wreckage, its hide covered with wicked bruises.

"Pathetic," Paul growled, turning around and walking away. _What an idiot_, he thought, as he turned into a side alley, hidden from the lamps' glow. _He's _never _going to be strong enough to beat me. Not with those ridiculous training methods of his._

The harsh wind swept across him, blowing his violet hair in all directions as he walked, his blue jacket fanning behind him as he walked down the alley. Normally, he'd use the gale as a chance to test out his Pokemons' endurance, but he wasn't in the mood after the battle; something seemed a bit off. So it came to no surprise to him that as he turned into a second street and strode down the length of it, he heard the sound of pounding footsteps, growing louder. He didn't even bother turning around, because he knew it was only going to be Ash attempting to reprimand him for being "cold-hearted", or some load of crap like that.

"Paul!" yelled the person, and Paul's eyebrows shot up in honest surprise as he recognised the voice. It wasn't Ash. However, the fact that he knew who had just addressed him caused a frown to seep onto his face. He turned around and, sure enough, he saw Dawn standing a few metres away.

"What do _you_ want?" he hissed. He wasn't in the mood for any of her whinging.

"How can you be such a prick to Ash?!" she questioned, her face radiating anger like it was heat. Paul merely rolled his eyes, a gesture which went unnoticed by Dawn.

"If he's got a problem with me kicking his ass every time we battle, then that's too bad," he answered, folding his arms in front of him and scowling at Dawn. "It's not my fault that he's as weak as a Caterpie; he needs to learn the hard way that love won't get you anywhere."

"So the end justifies the means, does it?!" she shrieked, ignoring the latter comment and taking a step towards him. "Just because you think you're stronger than him, you reckon it's alright to kick him while he's down, insult him, and treat him like an insect?!"

"You don't have the right to lecture me on this," Paul seethed, clenching a hand into a fist.

"And you probably don't have the decency to listen to me," she conceded, trying to control her emotions whilst she stared him in the eyes. "But by the same token, you'll never make a decent Champion."

Paul snorted at the comment. "And exactly _what _makes you say that?" he leered.

"Because I saw your battles against Cynthia and Brandon," fired Dawn, smirking as she saw Paul's face harden, even in the half-light it was hidden in. "_You _got your ass kicked by _both _of them, but _they _didn't say a bad thing about you!"

"Like hell," he growled, venom in his words.

"No!" she retorted, standing firm. "You got destroyed in both those battles by better trainers, but they at least had the _decency_ to give you some advice to make you better," she continued. "That's why they're so successful and well-liked; they don't try and turn the whole world against them like _you _do!"

"And why the hell do you even _care_?" Paul bellowed, his voice cracking as he rounded on her. Dawn flinched at the piercing glower Paul gave her, her voice failing as she registered the fury in his expression. "_Huh?!" _he pressed, moving closer, and the blue-haired girl took a hasty step backwards. Paul waited five seconds for a response that never came, Dawn visibly shaking in the lamplight, before he walked up to her, stopping inches short of her face.

Dawn could feel his breath on her face, washing across her hair in short, sharp bursts. She could see the cold rage in his eyes, burning into hers as he held her gaze. She could sense how badly Paul wanted to hurt her, to make her take her words back. But she stood stock still, paralysed by fear, as Paul spoke again.

"You've got _no right _to judge me," Paul hissed. His voice was barely above a whisper, but she could hear the danger and venom in his voice, a million times more powerful than the words could ever be. "_No right,_" he repeated, stony-faced, even as he saw the tears forming in Dawn's eyes. With that said, he turned on his heels and strode away down the street, his shadow trailing behind him. He didn't turn around when Dawn's sobs echoed down the concrete towards him, nor when he heard the angry shouts from Ash and Brock, who had just seen their friend crying in the street.

He just kept walking.

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**Okay, I did a slight (well...maybe not _slight_) edit to the last part of the fic, since I thought I _did _go overboard in trying to portray Paul. I reckon this version more accurately pictures his personality from the anime, and I hope you guys and gals see it the same way.**

**Normally, I'm a fan of IkariShipping, but in sticking with anime canon, it's extremely unlikely to happen; this scenario's probably more likely.**

**Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed it, and please review!**


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